


our traitorous ideals

by villhag



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower Route, F/F, a hurt/comforty rewrite of byleth and edelgard's A support during the war, fluff and angst and blasphemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 18:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30143817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villhag/pseuds/villhag
Summary: “Byleth…” she says, unsure, “how could you not?”“Not what?”“Think of me that way,” she explains, tone blunt, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, “think of me as evil incarnate.”OR: In the midst of the war, Byleth and Edelgard share a moment on the balcony.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 86





	our traitorous ideals

The sun sets on Fódlan, a sky once simmering yellow turned cold, dim blue. It is Edelgard’s favorite view, this one ― the skyline dusted with barely visible treetops and mountain peaks. From their perch on the castle balcony, Byleth and Edelgard share this sight every night together at dawn; Byleth enjoys the view, too, but she adores it not for the sight but for the _sensation_ , the calm tranquility; most of all, she adores what it offers Edelgard ― a rare, near impossible solace. A moment of uncompromised peace. 

It’s the one time she sees Edelgard truly still. Silent. Like a gargoyle, stoney eyed and motionless. Unbothered and unthinking. 

But tonight, Byleth feels a shift. An odd… distance. Edelgard was never the most vulnerable person, but with Byleth she was warm. Bristling, but not unkind. Ever since the war began, Byleth couldn’t help but notice the way the bloodshed fell hard on Edelgard’s shoulders. The waves of death bludgeoning her shield, the fickle crust around her heart and ego. With every stalemate, the exhaustion bore deeper into her, corroding, corroding. 

“There’s no red in the sky,” Edelgard comments, and Byleth looks up at her. Her white hair is as bright as the moon, a beacon and foil against the night sky. And she’s right ― there is no red. Just white and black and green and blue. The only red is in Edelgard’s armor, her helmet and her bloody, discarded bandages. Byleth has grown fond of the color, as bleak as it may be. It’s the color of blood, yes, and of war ― but it is also the color of Adrestian victory, of _Edelgard_ ― of her naive and beautiful dreams of peace, serenity, equality and fairness.

“My teacher,” Edelgard says, suddenly soft-spoken. She turns her head away from the sky and towards Byleth, worrying her bottom lip “do you think… do you think of me as evil?”

Byleth’s eyes go wide. She is utterly surprised ― not only by the question, but by the vulnerability of it; Edelgard looks properly terrified, nervous, an emotion about as rare on her face as a wild dog running amok in the chambers of the Church. 

“Why would I think that?”

Byleth offers a small, confused smile. She aims to look genuine, unpitying, but it is hard to conceal the heartbreak she feels at the sight of Edelgard’s face. Edelgard is rarely this close, only inches away, and in this proximity Byleth can see all of her many crevices; the scratches and scars that are not purely physical, but the product of a deeper weight. Tired, dark eyes. Ruddy lips, bitten and bled.

“Because…” Edelgard trails off. She looks down at her hands. One of them is uncovered, scars jutting out of her palms. She cringes. Byleth instantly despises the sight of it ― the self-hatred written into the features of Edelgard’s face. She acts on instinct, reaching out and covering Edelgard’s hand with her own, squeezing it softly.

Edelgard bristles, surprised. Her eyes dart from her hand to Byleth’s eyes.

“Byleth…” she says, unsure, “how could you not?”

“Not what?”

“Think of me that way,” she explains, tone blunt, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, “think of me as evil incarnate.” 

Byleth supposes that to some, it may be the natural conclusion. For if God was not on their side ― and she notably _was not_ ― than the side opposing God was logically the side of evil. The side opposing heaven may as well be hell.

But, but, but. Byleth looks at Edelgard once more, a most overwhelming sight ― 

What God forgot to mention is that hell burns _bright_ ; hell burns bright and beautiful.

“It is very convenient, you know, that the Goddess invented evil,” Byleth murmurs. At that, Edelgard’s confusion only deepens, her hand still and cold under Byleth’s own. Byleth shuffles closer to her, decidedly ignoring the way Edelgard’s eyebrows raise, the way her cheeks burn and panic dances in her fidgeting eyes.

When Edelgard speaks, it is barely a whisper, “what do you mean, convenient?”

“Just like that: convenient,” Byleth repeats, soft but sure, “she gets to design the universe, so naturally she throws her enemies in the rancid bucket of _evil_ . Evil means nothing, you know, without the foil of… good. And then since God invents good, and she invents herself, the _Goddess, to be all that is good_ , then anything that isn’t God…”

“Is evil,” Edelgard finishes, looking at Byleth like a deer. Stunned and solemn, “which makes me…” _evil_ , Edelgard mouths, not speaking it. Byleth disagrees, nodding a furious _no_.

“It doesn’t make you evil, El. It makes you a problem,” Byleth interjects. Edelgard smiles slightly at the nickname, and Byleth swells at the unusual tenderness of the woman in-front of her; delicate, fragile. A complete deconstruction of the persona that rules the battlefield, her soft features highlighted by the moon. This is her at her most perfect, Byleth thinks ― loved and tended to by moonlight, not blistered and bolstered by the sun, “a problem to God, to the Goddess, to _Rhea_. A traitorous obstacle, with traitorous ideals.”

Edelgard is silent for a moment. A return to her usual trance. Still, nothing about this moment is usual; Byleth’s phantom heart is a racket in her chest, pounding with adrenaline at the fact that she really _means_ what she says. She has barely meant anything her whole life, until Edelgard. A walking zombie amongst the dead. It was Edelgard that awakened the ghost of a heartbeat within her; Edelgard who introduced her to critical thought and theory, to dreams of equality and the hardship it brought.

To Byleth’s surprise, Edelgard shifts. She drops her head to Byleth’s shoulder, curling into her side. Byleth stiffens, feeling the warmth of Edelgard pressed against her, the pair of them staring wordlessly into the night sky.

“A problem, huh?” Edelgard’s tone is warm, no longer filled with the same heartbreaking insecurity, “and what does that make you?”

Byleth grins, laughs, “a problem’s accomplice, I suppose.”

“And when this is all over? If we win…” Edelgard turns to look at Byleth, shifting her body so their faces are parallel. She looks nervous again, but not the sad sort of nervous. No ― something different entirely, “and we’re no longer just a problem for the Goddess. What then?”

Byleth blushes, heat rising to her face. _What then;_ she hadn’t thought so far ahead, really. Edelgard had given her a cause, a role to play. She was the Empire’s justiciar, the Empress’ protector, a capable sword, a rejected pawn of the Goddess...

She was a friend, too, she supposes, with all else stripped away.

“I think…” Byleth looks away, unable to hold Edelgard’s piercing gaze, “I think I would like to stay by your side, if you’ll have me.”

“By my side?” Edelgard looks uncharacteristically hopeful, her eyes bright and full. Byleth is surprised at how happy she sounds, how carefree. Like she had been hoping for the same thing, in secret. Like having Byleth till the end was a goal on par with having justice, or peace.

“Why not?” Byleth shrugs, hiding a sheepish smile, “A queen always needs a…”

Byleth pauses. She thinks of all the times Edelgard has probably heard the phrase, and its natural, stoic endings. A queen always needs a _king_ ; a queen always needs a guard, an army, a loyal servant. Byleth could be any and all, serve any function, but she didn’t wish to. For once, she desired to give something to Edelgard that she did not need ― something she purely _wanted_.

“A friend,” Byleth squeezes Edelgard’s rough hand once more, “a queen always needs a friend.”

“Oh, Byleth ―” Edelgard, for the first time, looks away. Red highlighting her cheeks; a surprised, unsure smile, “I would rather like that.”

Feeling brave, Byleth clears her throat, “and maybe, after this is all _really_ over…”

She eyes the bloody garments laying in a pile by Edelgard’s side, and aches ― aches to bring about the future that Edelgard so terribly desires. So fiercely _demands_. To give her the gift of victory, in its simplest terms. And she knows she cannot deliver that alone, that it would take an army, a dedicated, fearless team; the collective will of hundreds of thousands.

When she finds Edelgard’s eyes again, she finds that Byleth’s silence only deepened the red on her cheeks, “what are you saying?” Edelgard asks, curiosity and concern evident in her tone.

Byleth deflates; her momentary bravery fleeting. She laughs lightly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she mumbles, “I think I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Edelgard smiles softly at her. Byleth ducks her head. How embarrassing ― to turn from comforter to comforted. She was supposed to be the Empress’ shield, and here she was, a bubbling mess. Byleth was grateful for the dark of night, the curtain of black to hide her silly missteps.

“Any future spent with you sounds lovely, Byleth. As friends, as _accomplices_ , as...” Edelgard looks down at their conjoined hands; before she can think twice of it, she intertwines their fingers. Byleth’s eyebrows raise, and she blinks slowly at the silhouette of them: a barely-there reflection on the metal gates of the balcony, illuminated by moon and firelight, “I pray we get the opportunity to see it through.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing for this pair, so i hope i got their voices right. i loved edelgard's route so much and i wish we had a million more supports to peer into the world between her and the professor.


End file.
